SiriusandJames
by The Third Marauder
Summary: Friends? Partners? Brothers? Soulmates? An attempt to define the deep bond between Padfoot and Prongs. Friendship fic.
1. Philia

**Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters belong to JK Rowling. The title for the story, as well as the idea of basing it off of the four Greek loves and defying definitions comes from InSilva's story DannyandRusty. **

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Friends. Partners. Brothers. Soulmates.

James and Sirius had never been worried about definitions. About figuring out what it was in their relationship that enabled them to coexist so flawlessly. It _had_ happened, they were happy that it had happened, and, really, for them, that was all that mattered.

Besides to come up with a categorization, as such, well, that would be antithetical to what they were. What they believed in. Because they had never prescribed to predetermined boundaries or lived within existing limitations. Everything they were was about crossing lines, breaking rules, and reaching for infinity.

Except they lived in a rational world. A world that did not like to accept that some things could not be understood. A world that would continue to push, to search for answers, forgetting that, maybe, sometimes there were things beyond explanation.

* * *

"_So, what's the deal?" _

"_Pardon?" _

_The girl, like most in the pub, had wistful eyes on the two black haired wizards sitting at the bar. Remus did not blame her. Charismatic and people people at the worst of times, James' and Sirius' charms were out in full dazzle tonight, even if they were solely reserved for each other. _

"_With Ruggedly Handsome and Too-Charming-For-His-Own-Good Casanova." _

_Remus bit back a grin. It was as apt a description of his two best mates as any, though he had no doubt that there would be much discussion over who got to be who. _

"_What about them?" He asked, watching as James' finger reaches out to wipe a smudge of sauce from Sirius' face. _

"_Are they together? What's their—" she waved a nondescript hand. _

"_Sirius and James? They are…" _

_Then he paused. It wasn't that he did not know how to end the thought; there were just too many possible endings to choose from._

"…_I guess you could call them best mates."_

_Truth was a relative concept, anyway._

* * *

Remus sometimes wondered whether the person who had come up with the saying "two's company" had foreseen James and Sirius. It wasn't just that they didn't need anyone else. When they were together, no one else _existed_. Not that the exclusion was intentional. They were always welcoming to company, always eager to explain whatever scheme was running through their minds, always willing to share the newest joke they had made out of life. But it was impossible for them to relate everything. They could read each other so well that the tiniest twitch of an eyebrow was comprehended as words, the smallest movement in posture was perceived as a sentence, the slightest change in expression was absorbed as a paragraph. Silence between them didn't exist, and, really, how could that amount of communication, that volume of combined consciousness ever be expressed?

* * *

James' entrance stopped Remus in the middle of his sentence. The young pureblood was holding himself stiffly, clearly agitated about something.

"Prongs."

James ignored the greeting, heading straight for his bedroom, the door slamming shut behind him. Remus didn't even have to look at Sirius to know that the gray-eyed wizard had stood to follow. The moment James entered a room Sirius' attention was going to be lost.

Sirius didn't knock before opening the door. He stood to the side, allowing Remus enough room to see inside, and leaned against the wall.

"So, what did Lily say," Sirius started casually.

James was lying front down on his bed. A muffled moan came from his pillow.

Sirius waited patiently for James to roll over. "Is she—"

"Angry doesn't even begin to cover it," James corrected. "I suppose me being an illegal animagus who spent four years running around with a werewolf is something I should have told her."

There was a long pause, as Sirius quickly peeked at Remus.

James winced as he tracked Sirius' look. Likely, he hadn't noticed that Remus was there to take what he said as an accusation.

"Not that it's _your_ fault—" He sighed, ruefully.

"Don't worry about it," Remus interrupted with a tight smile. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sirius accompany the acceptance with an understanding look, as if Sirius needed to apologize to James that Remus was present to feel the insult in the first place.

"Apparently," James was saying mockingly, "I'm unreliable. And immature. And an arrogant toe-rag with a head the size of a bloated quaffle."

"She _said_ that?" Sirius' eyebrow was raised.

"It was implied." James' tone was flat.

A pause. "You told her eventually," Sirius pointed out fairly.

"Yeah. Eventually." James answered. "And, well, you know…" He trailed off, and would have likely left it there for Sirius to understand had the latter not pointedly glanced at Remus, a reminder that not everyone could finish James' thoughts. Guiltily, James tried to continue as if he had not stopped, "You know how she gets about breaking laws, as much as she agrees that some of them are extremely stupid."

Sirius grimaced. "I suppose you could skip—"

James snorted.

"Only temporarily!"

"Yeah? What's she going to say when she finds out?" James challenged.

Sirius was optimistic. "She could surprise you. Maybe she'll think it's sweet."

James just raised an eyebrow. Because all three of them knew that Lily's reaction if she found out that James had removed himself from full moons and from helping Remus because he thought she was uncomfortable with it would be the farthest thing from romantic.

"We don't have to tell her," Sirius suggested hopefully, and James just looks aghast. There must be something else in that look, because Sirius is snorting:

"I have no idea where you might have come up with _that_."

One of them must have noticed Remus' confusion because James was belatedly explaining: "I was always under the impression that Sirius was supposed to be good at generating usable ideas." But the tension in James had dissipated, and his face was relaxed as he continued with the story. "I guess I had to tell her eventually…"

"Yeah."

"She did tell me she liked surprises."

Sirius laughed, obviously comprehending where James was going, "I don't think that's what she meant."

"Really, detective? What tipped you off?"

Sirius ignored the jibe. "So what did you say?"

James leveled Sirius with a look.

"What could I have said?"

Sirius considered. "Nothing."

"That's what I said."

"So she stormed out."

"And I transformed back."

"Well, that's that, I suppose," Sirius shrugged, somehow managing to perceive the entire encounter in that exchange.

"I always thought getting Lily was going to be the hardest part." Frustration.

"What, that everything after was going to be some sort of happily ever after?" Sirius was looking at him, askance.

"Something like that," James' tone is wistful.

"Are we still talking about the same Lily?"

A swat. "Shut up."

Remus couldn't help but wonder if he would ever get the full story from either of his two former classmates. The more cynical side of him also asked how long it would take James or Sirius to notice that he was no longer standing in the doorway.

* * *

It wasn't loyalty. Which wasn't to say they weren't loyal; they were, and they took that to a new level as they did everything else. But doing something out of loyalty required some sort of conscious choice, implied a line of reasoning behind the action. James or Sirius would look after Remus because Remus was their _friend_, because it was what friends _did_. That wasn't what drove them to aid each other. They helped each other because the other's welfare was the first thought in their minds, because their own happiness was so codependent on the other's that it was impossible to separate. They were there for each other because they literally couldn't conceive of being anywhere else.

* * *

They were late.

They were late, and Remus was a little worried.

He knew better. Knew he was being silly, knew they had been late before, knew that they were probably fine. But what they were doing wasn't without risks, and he knew that, too. So when he finally heard their whispers as they entered the dormitory, he couldn't help but be relieved. Until he saw the shadows made by a lit wand. Because one of his friends was definitely being half-carried by the other.

"I always thought I looked good in red," James was complaining, dryly. "This one, though, I'm not so fond of."

"It's better than that awful—"

"Don't insult the sweater. Lily made it."

Sirius snorted. "I think she only got it so that she had a reason to undress you."

"I _do _make a sexy nude," He could hear James' grin as Sirius helped him into bed.

"And people ask why I worry that you're an exhibitionist," Sirius muttered, but Remus could hear the fondness.

"Can you get the light?"

"What about—"

"Moony said he was staying with Wormtail in the hospital wing."

And, suddenly, despite the light in the room, the mood had grown dark. Sirius swallowed audibly. "James," And the use of his friend's given name stopped Remus from opening the bed hangings to offer support. They never used first names. Sirius was _scared_. "I'm going to have to—"

"I know. Make it quick."

A whisper. "It'll hurt."

"Make it quick," James' voice was gentle.

For a while there was silence broken only by soft gasps of pain. And then a sharp inhale from Sirius.

"What do you think?" Nonchalant.

Sirius responded just as carelessly. "It's barely a scratch." But the tone was too causal, and Remus knew that to Sirius, it might as well have been as wide as the English Channel.

"Maybe if we ignore it, it will go away on its own?" Sirius' voice is strangely hopeful, and James lets out a laugh.

"Sure. And maybe those essays for Slughorn will magically complete themselves, too."

"There's no need to be sarcastic, prat."

"Just go get Moony," James ordered, but there was no real exasperation, only affection.

"I'm here," Remus finally found his voice, and their surprise at seeing him sliding off his bed was outweighed by their relief at not having to sneak down to the Hospital Wing to fetch him. Upon seeing the wound, he exhaled slowly. James' lower leg was covered in blood, and he could see shattered bone through the broken skin and muscle. "What happened?"

"I messed up," Sirius was ridden with guilt, "Misjudged the timings."

James' jaw clenched, and Remus jumped in before James could. "You don't know that. Maybe there was an accident, and practice ended early. Maybe they decided to skip. Maybe we were just unfortunate."

He was right. Sirius knew he was right. But the Black heir had never liked to admit that there were things beyond his control.

"So, Moony," there was anxiety in James' voice, no matter how flippant he tried to keep it. "Is it bad?"

It wasn't good. But he had seen worse. He had _healed_ worse. James would be fine. He smiled, "I wouldn't be canceling quidditch practice tomorrow. Padfoot can you get some skele-gro?"

Sirius was at the potions cupboard before he could blink. Remus turned to his friend, who was watching him carefully. "Prongs—"

"How much is it going to hurt?"

"Not too much," Remus reassured. "Like you got hit with a bludger."

James examined him. Then, "Liar."

"All right, so maybe multiple bludgers. Simultaneously," Remus grinned, prompting a laugh from the injured quidditch captain.

The treatment took a little more than ten minutes. When he was done, Sirius moved forward automatically, his gray eyes running across James as if to confirm he was still there. Finally, "I wish you hadn't—"

"What?" James' expression was dangerous.

"You were under the cloak"

"Yeah." Which sounded more like a _so_.

"They didn't even know you were there. You shouldn't have—"

"—you can't be _serious_?" James exclaimed.

"They had already seen me!" The words burst out of Sirius. "They knew I was involved. You should have just let me go."

James was silent for a moment. When he finally spoke, each word was punctuated with incredulity. "_I_ should have let you go."

"I told you to."

"I told you I couldn't hear you," James said, and there's a little bit of a taunting edge to his voice. "It was a bit difficult over the yelling and the cursing and the running from flying hexes."

Sirius blinked. "That's the most selfish thing I've ever heard."

"Oh, so because I don't want you hurt, I'm suddenly self-centered?" James challenged.

"And I suppose you stepping the way of a curse _for no reason other than to protect me, _isn't self-centered?"

There's silence, and they were both glaring at each other.

Finally, "Ok, fine, I'm selfish." Remus thought James capitulated a little too easily, but then the bespectacled pureblood was smiling, and there was unspoken promise in his tone. "I will always be selfish that way, Sirius."

Remus couldn't imagine it being any other way.

Remus also suspected that neither of them wanted it to be.

_TBC_

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_Philia_: Described by Aristotle as the love of friendship. It is a virtuous love that require loyalty, equality, and familiarity to friends and family.

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**Authors Note:**

**I have always liked exploring the relationship between James and Sirius. They enjoyed a bond so deep and intrinsic that it is something to be admired and written about. That said, I was trying to decide how best to describe them, when I realized that, really, they are beyond words. They defy categories. Thus, this story was born.**

**It will be four chapters long. Each chapter will be narrated by a different person who will try and fit them into one of the four Greek words for love (philia, agape, storge, and eros). I will leave it to you to decide which one encompasses them best. **

**Please review. As always, constructive criticism and comments are always much appreciated. **

**Cheers,**

**The Third Marauder**


	2. Agape

**Disclaimer: All characters and concepts you recognize belong to JK Rowling. The fight between Sirius and James was taken from Episode 2.1 of White Collar. **

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"_Oh, thank Merlin you're here."_

_Alastor was startled at the thick gratitude in the frazzled Healer's voice._

"_It's a mess. We can't get _him_ to leave, and the trainee gets even more agitated if we try and remove him by force."_

_She is pointing into one of the Emergency Healing Stations that the auror office had erected in the apparition zone of the department for immediate care needs. James was moments away from cursing the Healer who was failing to remove him from the premises, and Sirius, despite being a bloody mess laying on a stretcher, was ignoring the Healer trying to treat him in favor of calming the irate Potter heir._

"_What's he doing here?" Moody asked. After all, the apparition point was keyed to auror wands only, and Potter, for all the time he spent in the department, was _not_ an auror and did not have access._

"_No idea," the Healer said, disapprovingly. The Healer surveys the increasingly desperate James, and the look is distasteful. "Who is he, anyway? What's the nature of their relationship?"_

_The implication was clear, and though Alastor could not say he had never wondered the same thing, he couldn't help but defend them. That, and if James got any angrier, the Healer he was currently talking to would soon find himself in extreme pain._

"_They trained together," he said gruffly, "They're partners."_

* * *

It had taken Alastor a while to figure out what exactly was bothering him about them. He remembered back when he had been a trainee, learning new things had meant competition. New spells, new techniques, new lessons—even if the rivalries had been friendly, it was still there. And the score had _mattered_. It was what had inspired them to push themselves, because they wanted to be the cleverest. They wanted to be the best. But there was no sign of that here. He had known James and Sirius were close. But there was no competitiveness and no jealousy, and he had to admit that it was strange, had to admit that it scared him, had to admit that there was a part of him that just could not understand it. Could not understand _them_.

* * *

It was the middle of one of Alastor's training sessions for the Order. Moody had set up a system of wards for the members to practice cracking. The Prewitt brothers had turned it into a sort of competition between themselves. Potter and Black, on the other hand, were doing almost the complete opposite.

"No, it's more of a jab," James was instructing Sirius. He had been the first to break the primary layer Alastor had conjured, and, instead of tackling the second, he had immediately gone to show Sirius how he had done it. And Sirius, far from being upset that someone had bested him, was listening patiently, with pleasure in his eyes as he watched his best mate explain how he had identified the defect and cracked it.

Through James' coaching, Sirius had the first layer down within five minutes. That process continued. Sirius was the first to solve both the second and third layers, but James figured the last one out, and between each step, they took breaks to help each other. So when Alastor finally ended the exercise, Gideon, who had only solved three, and Fabian, who was still stuck on the second, were vocally upset.

"They're cheating," Fabian announced. "There's no other way."

"Aw, Fabian, I'm insulted," Sirius said in mock affront.

"That he thinks you would cheat?" James asked wryly.

"That he thinks I need to."

"It _is_ suspect," James said fairly, amusement dancing in his eyes. "They_'_re _auror_s. Best of the best, and all that."

Sirius protested immediately. "_I'm_ an auror."

"You're a trainee," James reminded tolerantly. "And I'm a civilian."

"Oh. Yeah. I suppose that _is_ different."

"It is a sad commentary on the competency of our nation's law enforcement, to say the least," James said, and his tone was completely solemn, despite obvious mirth playing across his face.

"Are you done?" Fabian finally asked.

James looked at Sirius, his eyes shining. "I could go on. Sirius?"

Sirius looked like he was biting back laughter, "Not even close."

"Are you two always like this?" The elder twin demanded, unable to ignore their antics any longer.

"Always brilliant?" James quipped innocently. "Yes, yes we are."

"Always on the same side," Gideon clarified in exasperation. After all, the Potters and the Blacks were traditionally rivals at the best of times.

Sirius looked bemusedly at James, "Can you think of—"

"—not unless you count—"

"—oh, Merlin, no, that wasn't—"

"—were drunk, you're right—"

"—so, yes." Sirius faced the twins again. "We are."

"There has to be something," Gideon was insisting.

"What about a girl?"

Sirius laughed. "James never discovered girls. He discovered Lily."

"That wouldn't be much of a competition, anyway, brother," Gideon grinned, and suddenly both black haired purebloods had grown very still.

James' tone was careful. Dangerous. "Are you implying something, Prewitt?"

"All Sirius has to do is flash a smile and give them that innocently charming wide eyed look, and it's like they're under an imperius curse."

"Innocently charming?" James repeated. The good humor had returned. "Like a puppy?"

Sirius barked a laugh.

"You don't understand. It's infallible! Hell, if Sirius smiled at me like that I'd probably do whatever he wanted." Fabian exclaimed, and then pointed a cautionary finger at the auror trainee who had perked up at the statement. "Don't even think about it, Black."

"He's exaggerating." But there was a smugness to it that had Alastor thinking that Sirius' false modesty was exactly that: false.

"Name one girl—"

"Kate O'Neal."

There was a pause.

"That's low," Fabian finally said, and he sounded troubled and not a little angry.

"Who's—"

"She works in the DMLE under Crouch. Fabian's had a crush on her for ages, but the idiot's too afraid to ask her out," Gideon explained. "And," he added, turning to Sirius. "You can't count her. She doesn't say yes to _anybody_."

"And I don't have a crush on her," Fabian petulant dispute came belatedly.

Alastor could sense that the conversation was approaching perilous territory if the mischievous expression on James' face was anything to go by, so he decided that the break was over. That didn't mean he missed Fabian's strangely hopeful, "She really said no? To _Sirius_?!" or Gideon's responding eye roll.

It was the next day. Alastor and Sirius had just returned to the auror office from a briefing, and James was perched on Fabian's desk, the Prewitt twins staring at him in wonder and amazement.

"What's going on?"

"He got O'Neal to go out with him," Gideon's tone was reverent.

"Technically," James drawled, "_she_ asked _me_ out."

Fabian simply looked stunned. "I can't believe… He even beat _you_, Sirius."

And, then, there was tension. James was frowning, and there was guilt and not a little bit distress in his gaze as it fixed on Sirius. Because _Sirius had to know _that he had only done it to prove a point, _had to understand_ that the idea that he might have done it to one-up his friend, to cause his friend to _lose_, was misguided and illogical and completely and utterly _wrong_.

Sirius knew. He was smiling. "I told you not to underestimate him. I might have the mesmerizing eyes', but James could charm a goblin to buy leprechaun's gold." There was no small amount of fondness in his tone, and his countenance was proud and triumphant, as if there was nothing that could have gratified him more than James' success.

Which, when Alastor considered it, there probably wasn't.

* * *

They completed each other. Not in the sappy romantic way (because Alastor didn't do sentimental), but in the way of flawless balance and effortless complementation. They fit together so seamlessly that it shouldn't have been possible– yin and yang faultlessly and wholly personified. Sirius' could never reach the heights that James' imagination took them to, and without Sirius' eye for detail, James' ideas could never move beyond the conceptual. Which wasn't meant as belittlement. Alastor had no doubt that, independently, they would have been exceptional; they were both extremely talented individuals, after all. But when they were together, boundaries and limits disappeared. There was nothing they could not accomplish, no task beyond their scope. They were peerless. They were unbeatable. They were, in a word, _impossible_.

* * *

The mission was supposed to be straightforward. Easy.

The auror office had received a tip detailing the whereabouts of Scabior, a Death Eater who had been connected to countless muggle deaths over the past couple years. The plan was to capture him as he tried to break into the warehouse used by the Department of Mysteries to store information deemed too sensitive to keep at the Ministry. It couldn't have been more by-the-book had the training instructors organized the stake-out themselves.

In hindsight, though, Alastor should not have been so surprised when everything fell apart. There really was no such thing as simple where James or Sirius were concerned.

They had been waiting in a clump of bushes and trees for about an hour when it happened.

"You know," a voice informed matter-of-factly from above them, "he's already inside."

At once two wands were pointed into the branches hanging over the aurors. Sirius, Alastor observed, was lazily examining his fingernails, and, as if finally noticing that wands were drawn, remarked casually, "One of these days, one of them _will_ hex you, Prongs."

A snort. "I've been up here for half an hour without you lot noticing. Even now, none of you would come close to hitting me."

Both Kingsley and Alastor automatically adjusted the aim of their wands but James' laugh just tinkled down to them. "Why don't you come down and talk to us like a normal person, Potter," Alastor growled.

A pause. "Where would the fun in _that_ be?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. In a flash, his wand was out, a spell shooting through the trees. A second later found James Potter picking himself off the ground, leaves and sticks in his hair and sporting a rather impressive glare.

Sirius shrugged. "I was bored."

"You might not be bored if you were doing your job and stopping Scabior from stealing research secrets," James said coldly, brushing himself off.

"How do you know who's in there?" Kingsley demanded. This operation had been kept under wraps from even their own department. "How did you even know we were here? Did Black tell you?"

Sirius looked outraged, but Alastor was shaking his head. He had long since stopped trying to figure out how Sirius and James managed to track each other. Besides, "Sirius has been with me all day. He didn't tell James. And that's besides the point." He turned to the Potter heir. "We can't do anything until we have a reason to go into a private warehouse. There is such thing as probable cause."

"It's a Ministry building-"

"It's the Department of Mysteries, Potter. No one has jurisdiction when it comes to them."

Sirius swirled, and he was looking at his beaming friend with wide, anxious eyes. "You can't-"

"It'll work." James was confident. "Nothing could _possibly_ go-"

"-everytime you say that-"

"-not that one time in-"

"-ended up in the Hospital Wing-"

"-overreacting to a scratch-"

"-_you almost lost your arm_-"

"If you two ever feel like stopping that twinspeak thing," Kingsley interrupted irritably, "we would like to hear your plan."

James blinked. "I have no plan." The expression was driven snow; Alastor didn't think he had ever seen pure innocence personified so perfectly.

"Sirius?" Alastor's trainee was watching his best mate, unhappily.

"Sirius," there was a warning tone in James' voice.

"I'm sorry, Prongs." Sirius turned to face his boss. "James is planning to go in and bring Scabior out to us."

The bespectacled wizard was outraged. "That's absurd. I don't have to take these accusations. I'm leaving."

"We can't let you do that, Potter."

James simply raised an eyebrow. "I'd like to see you try and stop me. You have no legitimate cause to hold me against my will."

Sirius spoke up, reluctantly, "Sir, is there still an outstanding warrant out for the persons responsible for that duel in Matlock three months ago? I have evidence that James was involved in that incident."

"That makes you a suspect, Potter. And we _can_ hold those in auror custody. Surrender your wand."

There was complete betrayal on James' face as he turned his wand over.

"Black, keep an eye on him. Kingsley, a moment." Alastor stepped out of James and Sirius' earshot. "Potter's right. Scabior is probably inside. We need a way to get eyes on him..."

The two brainstormed for a few minutes in low tones, until, "Where's Potter and Black?"

Alastor spun to face the spot where the two black haired wizards had been minutes before. And he groaned. "They are the most idiotic pinheads I have ever met. Get back to the HQ and bring who ever is there. We're going to need back-up."

By the time Kingsley had disapparated with a crack, Alastor was already hurtling into the warehouse. He heard the voices immediately. There were three of them, around the corner from where he was. He inched forward, peering around the wall.

James and Sirius were standing across the room from each other. The auror apprentice had his wand out, pointed to the shadows close to James where was standing with his hands up in the universal 'I'm unarmed' signal.

"You really think you can dodge Sirius' wandwork?" James is asking conversationally, his head turned slightly behind him where Scabior must have his wand trained on the pureblood. "It's not that easy."

"He would know," Sirius added.

James paused, a look of anger briefly crossing his face. "Because you will get hit."

"Again," Sirius supplemented, "he would know."

The anger stayed a little longer, as James turned to his best mate. "Ok, do you really have to do that? Because it's a little hypocritical."

"Are you saying I don't beat you? Consistently?"

"Consistently is an exaggeration!"

"Hey!" Scabior's voice broke in, but it was ignored.

"You know what?" James exclaimed. "I'm tired of this."

"Of getting into these impossible situations?" Sirius said sarcastically. "Oh, no, I rather enjoy being held hostage on a regular basis."

"No, of fighting with you!"

This was news to Alastor. He didn't think he had ever seen the two properly bicker, before.

"Maybe it's time for us to end this partnership, then."

"Fine by me," James said heatedly. "I can finally stop wasting my time helping you."

"_Wasting your time_? You don't even have a job!"

"Oh, well, that's really mature."

"Hey!" Scabior interjected again. James and Sirius turned to him, and said in unison:

"Hold on!"

"You really want this to be over?" Sirius asked.

James didn't hesitate. "Let's do it."

"Fine."

"Fine!"

"Shut up!" Scabior exploded, and then, suddenly, James was diving to the right, his arms tackling Scabior out of the shadows. Sirius, meanwhile, had shot off a spell to the exact point where James had pushed the Death Eater.

Scabior fell to the floor, paralyzed. James had already straightened up, by the time Sirius had gotten to him, Scabior's wand in his hand. There's a moment of silence as they both look each other over for reassurance. Then, "I told you we wouldn't get hurt."

"Don't count on that," Alastor finally stepped around the corner. "There had better be a good, _legal_ explanation for this."

The two looked at each other.

"I escaped while Sirius wasn't looking," James began.

"And, obviously, I couldn't let a confirmed suspect escape our custody," Sirius said, "so I followed him in-"

"-exigent circumstances-" James supplied helpfully

"-where I discovered Scabior stealing from the Department of Mysteries-

"-in plain view, I might add-"

"-and decided to take him down."

Alastor stood, his mouth slightly open. _Huh_. Because, really, not only was that one of the most brilliant improvised plans he had ever heard, but it was also completely admissible in court. Which only left one thing. "How did you know Potter was going to push Scabior to the right?"

"Because I was going to shoot right."

It was in the tone of someone who was saying something that should have been completely obvious. Because, to them, it was unthinkable that their actions would not automatically synchronize, that one of them could possibly do something that did not match the other.

_TBC_

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Agape: In Ancient Greek, agape often refers to a general affection or sense of unconditional love without a form of attraction.

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**Authors Note:**

**Next up is "storge," the love of family,**

**Please review. As always, constructive criticism and comments are always much appreciated. **

**Cheers,**

**The Third Marauder**


	3. Storge

_**Disclaimer**:** All the characters you recognize belongs to the wonderful JK Rowling. I thank her most profusely for allowing me to borrow them. **  
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**Chapter 3: Storge  
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_There was something about coming from a traditional, pureblood, Slytherin family that dictated the necessity of having an impressive scowl. His was particularly good at conveying an expression of arrogant disdain that generally discouraged people from engaging in conversation with him._

_Which was why Regulus was not expecting someone to have the temerity to approach him at the St. Mungo Yule Ball, and giggle in his ear: "Monsieur Black, you 'ave-"_

_The girl stopped as Regulus turned around, and she was able to take in the minute differences in his features. They both stared for a moment, then she was stammering._

"_D_ésolé_! I thought you were-"_

"_Sirius." Regulus gestured to the wall Sirius was leaning against whilst laughing with Potter. "He's over there." _

_She beamed. "Thank you. I am sorry, but you look very - how you say - similaire." _

"_Yes," he murmured, his lips twisting into a cold smile, "that tends to happen with brothers." Her eyes widened, and his words grew icy, too. "He wouldn't have said anything. He likes to pretend he was an only child."_

"'_He said he had a brother!" She protested. "He did not say he had two. Monsieur James does not look much like either of you, non?" _

"_James?" Oh. _Oh. _A pause, then, in envious words, "They _are_ rather perfect as brothers, aren't they?"_

_ There was, at least, nothing false about that._

* * *

Growing up, Regulus had always been taught that you were a member of the family first, and everything else came after. Which, he supposed, might have been true in theory. In practice, however, there was finger pointing and betrayal and he did and she did, the worst cases of which culminated in disownments and a burn hole on the family tapestry. Family, Regulus grew to cynically realize, only resulted in unification and blanket acceptance if you acted in the way the rest of the family expected you to. Which was what made Potter and Sirius's relation so unique. There was no accusations, no selfishness, no concept of personal opinion or preference. Everything was shared, and where the line between me and you and mine and yours should have been, there was only we, only ours.

* * *

It had been an accident.

Mostly.

After all, he had not _meant_ to shoulder the impulsive mudblood sixth year. He had not precisely avoided bumping into the Gryffindor, but there had been no _intention_ of getting into a scuffle with the wizard.

He supposed the snide disparage at the sixth year's parentage and its effect on his dexterity had, perhaps, not helped the matter.

But he was a Slytherin and a Black, and though neither meant that he was predisposed to impetuousness, they did mean he would never back down from a fight with beings with inferior blood, even if the beings in question were four years his senior and greatly outnumbered him.

Which was how he found himself dangling by an ankle in an empty corridor, disarmed and bruised. A fist, stiff and strong, slammed into his side knocking his breath out in a noisy gasp. It was amusing, really, that the mudbloods thought this might change him. As if employing such barbaric means of persuasion would somehow convince him that his parents were wrong; as if using physical violence when there were such delightfully subtle magical methods was _not_ utterly primitive and belonging to inferior creatures.

He was about to let out a wheeze of a laugh at the thought when a voice, cold and sharp, broke the silence.

"_What_ do you think you're doing?"

_Sirius_.

"Black," one of the Gryffindors breathed. It was a testament to Sirius' reputation among the student body that there was suddenly hesitation in the air.

"Montgomery. Caldwell. Burke. Rogers." Sirius was angry. "I think," Sirius continued, and Regulus did not think he had ever heard such controlled fury from his brother, "you ought to let him down. _Now_."

He could see them waver. Never mind that Sirius was a third year, never mind they outnumbered him four-to-one, Sirius was a Marauder, and _they_ were notorious in this school for their retribution against those who irritated them.

And then their stance stiffened, and Regulus knew they weren't going to comply. Sirius seemed to have picked up on the signal, too, because suddenly, Regulus was released from the magical hold, and the third year was shooting off hexes faster than one his age had a right to.

It was never going to work. Within minutes, Regulus was being held by one of the sixth years, and Sirius was disarmed, and Caldwell had aimed a bright red curse for him.

Out of the corner of his eye, Regulus saw Potter –_Potter_?—dart toward the curse, and Sirius jumping in the way, too, and someone with black hair crumpled to the floor. It happened too fast, and the only thing that registered in his mind was someone (him?) screaming. And then he was throwing himself forward trying to get to Caldwell, scratching and fighting and desperate to get away from the person restraining him.

"Calm down, Regulus." Potter. Regulus stopped. It was Potter's voice, level and _impossible_, but there the chaser was, sitting up, clutching his shoulder, blood trickling between the fingers. "I'm fine. It's superficial. Barely a scratch." And he might have been talking to Regulus, but his eyes were set on Sirius. Sirius, who was being held back by twice the number of people as Regulus, Sirius, who was whiter than any human had a right to be, Sirius, who was running his eyes up and down Potter as if still not believing he was there.

Then, Potter glanced down at the wound, dismayed. "You had to hex the shoulder?"

"Could have been your face," Burke muttered from his position behind Regulus.

"I liked this sweater—"

"—you're the only one—" Sirius cut in, and the color was returning to his face, as was his usual grin.

"—and blood does not go with—"

"—_nothing_ goes with—"

"Quiet!" Caldwell ordered, but he, like Regulus, undoubtedly wondered at their ability to banter in a state like this. "I reckon," his eyes were losing their manic glint and it was being replaced with a trace of nervousness appropriate for one who had just harmed a member of his house quidditch team, "I reckon you lot have learned your lesson from this, yeah?"

"Definitely."

"Most definitely," Potter contributed fervently.

"All right. Let's go lads," Caldwell said quickly, and the four sixth years disappeared around the corner.

Sirius was at Potter's side in a second. "Hospital Wing." It was clearly an order, but the tone was more affectionate than stern. "For both of you. Are you all right, Reg?"

Shakily, Regulus got to his feet, touching at his nose. There was caked blood there, and the bone hurt to touch, and Regulus really _really _hoped it was not broken, but he answered, "Should be."

Sirius nodded absently, his hand gently pulling Potter to his feet, looking at him meaningfully, and there must have been something else in there, too, because Potter was snapping warningly:

"Don't go there."

"He's _my _brother."

"And we like him."

Sirius' eyes hardened. "He's _my_ brother, and that means _you_—"

"—that _we_ take care of him."

They glared at each other for a full minute. Then, Sirius blinked, and Potter broke into a smile. Then, he announced. "Hospital Wing for you, Regulus."

"James—"

"—I'll get looked at, too. _After_ him."

The three began to walk. There was a few moments silence, until:

"But we _are_ going to—"

"After what they did to our sweater?" Sirius was incredulous. "_Obviously_."

"_Our_ sweater?"

"Our sweater."

"You hate this sweater!"

"_Our sweater_!"

"Our sweater," Potter agreed, smiling.

Because it was.

* * *

They didn't hold themselves to any sort of standard. Rules about what they should or should not do were ignored. When they were told that family, real family, dropped everything when a member beckoned, they scoffed. Assumptions and expectations held no weight for them. Not that Potter and Sirius wouldn't do that for each other. Regulus was sure that, if Sirius ever called for Potter or Potter for Sirius, each would come without complaint or question. Sirius and Potter just never had a reason for an explicit summon. They never had to raise their voices, yell, invite – hell, there wasn't even a need to make any noticeable attempt to attract attention. They could be across the room, captivated in deep conversation, and, still, seconds after Sirius would say Potter's name, or vice versa, they would be at each others' sides. Unfailingly. Every time. And that was deeper than any explicitly outlined rule or teaching could ever be.

* * *

It was a test.

_The_ test, and Regulus knew what he had to do to pass.

Knew, understood, and this should have been easy for him.

Should have been.

Wasn't.

"Ready?" Lucius's hand was light on his shoulder.

Regulus nodded beneath his hood.

The hand was removed, and then the door to Sirius' apartment was blasted off its hinge. The four death eaters rushed in only to find the apartment empty. They looked around blankly, before:

"There!" Crabbe shouted, his finger pointing at the tiny glimpse of robes as they disappeared out the window.

Lucius took charge. "We'll cut him off on the ground. You two follow him out!"

They moved. By the time they made it down to the near-empty parking lot, there was no sight of his brother, and Regulus would have been lying if he said he wasn't a little relieved.

Sirius was his brother. Disowned or not there were too many memories of climbing into Sirius' bed during thunderstorms, of laughing from the balcony as they watched their parent's guests arrive wearing the newest fashioned hats, of growing up together and loving each other, for this mission to be impersonal.

"Guess we should give—" he started hopefully, but Crabbe put his finger to his lips.

Because Malfoy was talking, shouting really, and if Sirius was around, there was no way he wouldn't hear. "Show yourself, Black! We have your cat, and I would prefer to not know how slowly I could kill it."

They had his _what_?

Regulus peaked around the and had to force himself to not laugh at the image of the sneering pureblood holding a scruffy gray feline by its collar.

And Lucius couldn't _possibly _think this would work. Sirius didn't have a cat. Sirius _hated_ cats.

Except, just as Lucius' wand rose, there was a hurried cry:

"No! Stop!"

Sirius appeared in the middle of the parking lot, hands up in the universal gesture of surrender.

"Let the cat go, and I'll come quietly. I promise." His voice was anxious and the vow earnest and Regulus could still read his brother well enough to know that this was no bluff. Incredibly, Sirius was going to go through with this.

And Lucius was right to look skeptical, right to watch disbelievingly as Sirius relinquished his wand without a fuss, right to be suspicious as Sirius allowed Crabbe to pat him down in search of weapons with no snide comment or disparage. Because Sirius did not surrender, and he most certainly did not do so quietly

Except, then, Lucius offered the cat, and Sirius, accepted it gently into his arms with a petulant admonishment, "you're lucky James likes you," and, unfortunately, everything suddenly made sense. Because it required no stretch of the imagination to conceive that Sirius would stop his escape to protect the feline if it belonged to Potter. Never mind that Potter would surely be more distressed about losing Sirius than the damn cat; neither of them would ever think twice about putting themselves at risk to protect the other's interests.

They secured Sirius into the holding cell they had prepared earlier. They might not have thought highly of Regulus' brother, but none of them were willing to underestimate the auror trainee. Sirius was smart, and, even without Potter to provide the bright ideas, was capable of frightening creativity.

"You stay here while we collect Potter." Lucius ordered when they are done. Regulus opened his mind to argue, but the blond intercepted him. "No. This is the safest part I can give you. I already have to tell Cissa that I allowed you to come on a potentially dangerous retrieval mission. I will not tell her I let you go on two."

Lucius _would_ consider guard duty the most harmless role. After all, the cottage they had placed Sirius in was securely warded. Unmappable. Untraceable.

But Lucius did not know Potter. Had never seen first hand what Potter was capable of when it came to protecting his best friend. Regulus gave the Gryffindor three hours.

Potter showed up in two, wand aimed directly at Regulus' chest, expression terrible and blank and almost inhuman.

"Regulus," he drew the name out cautiously. "Step aside."

The words were spoken calmingly and unthreateningly, but there was something behind them that removed any thought of disobeying from Regulus' mind.

"He's in the backroom. He hasn't been harmed."

The tension about Potter's shoulders dissipated. And finally, _finally_ there was some emotion in his face, a quick cartwheel of relief, security, and absolution.

Regulus offered a quick smile. "You should-"

"Yeah." Potter said offhandedly. There was something awkward about him. "Come with us. There's nothing for you here."

"There's nothing for me _there_," Regulus corrected harshly.

"Sirius –"

"Sirius ran away. _Left_ me." Regulus said angrily. "He's already shown how much he cared."

The hazel eyes were imploring. "He loves you."

Coming from Potter that did mean something, but the chasm ran too deep for Regulus to cross it now. Potter saw that, and sighed. "I left your three mates tied up in a cupboard on the fourth floor of this building." He handed over a slip of parchment and turned away.

"You're protecting me." It wasn't a question.

"You're his brother." Potter was quiet. "And no matter what either of you think, he cares for you."

Regulus nodded, motioning for Potter to step past him. The pureblood disappeared down the corridor, and Regulus sank into the couch.

He still heard everything.

From Sirius' exclamation of "James!" to Potter's quiet affirmation to the following query for Sirius health.

"Bored," Sirius responded promptly. Regulus did not need to be in there with them to know they would be doing that eye thing of there's and that all the important information would be transferred via unspoken facial movements. "Not even a deck of cards in this lousy hole."

"Perhaps they have a suggestions box. For future improv—" Potter stopped short. There was silence, then, incredulity. "Is that my _cat_?"

"They do look rather similar, don't they?"

"Why are you holding my cat?" Potter's voice was steady. But there was an edge to it that made the hair on the back of Regulus' neck stand.

"You're the one who asked me to watch him—"

"Sirius!" And Potter's voice was pained. Distraught. "Tell me you didn't… _please_."

Sirius' words were soft. "What would you have had me do?"

It was quiet. Finally, "Promise me you won't. Not again. Not _ever_."

"All right," Sirius' tone was light, but Regulus could hear the apology and the lie. "And, next time, _you_ can tell Lily why we lost her cat."

Regulus could almost hear Potter' grin.

"How _did_ you know I was here, anyway?"

"I asked Malfoy." Potter's tone was innocuous.

"And you just trusted what he told you?" Sirius was suitably suspicious.

"I asked him _really _nicely." The words were chilling, and, if it were anyone but Sirius, the matter would have probably been dropped.

"Yeah? How did you even get into a conversation with him?"

"He was kind enough to stop by."

"And you thought it would be a good idea to talk to him?"

"He didn't quite appear to be himself," and, really, for a Gryffindor, Potter was extremely skilled at evasive, yet, innocuous answers.

"Polyjuice—"

"—have a great talent for stating the obvious—"

"—and you opened the door for him—"

"—he _looked_ like you—"

"—the most _naïve_ imbecile—"

"—I knew it was a trap!"

"Knew?"

"Knew it was probably a trap," Potter amended sheepishly.

"And you still—"

"Because it might not have been." The resolve in Potter's tone made it clear that the pureblood would never regret opening the door as long as there was even the slightest chance that it may have been Sirius calling.

Sirius clicked his tongue in fond disapproval. "Idiot."

"Prat."

"Git."

"Oaf."

And Regulus could not bear to listen anymore. Because the words might have been insults, but all he could hear was 'I love you'.

_TBC_

* * *

_Storge_: The Greek word for affection, it is used to designate natural affection, like that of a parent for a child and is almost exclusively used as a descriptor of relationships within a family.

* * *

**A/N: **

**Next up is eros, which is defined as intimate love, though it can be interpreted in a platonic sense as well. **

**Please review! As always, I appreciate all comments, criticisms, and messages. **

**Cheers,**

**The Third Marauder  
**


	4. Eros

__**Disclaimer: All characters that you recognize belong to JK Rowling and her wonderful Harry Potter series. The definition for eros comes from Plato's _Symposium_.  
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******Chapter 4: Eros**

* * *

_It was a church party, and Lily was wishing, for not the first time, that her mum's family was not so religiously active. _

"_Oh, pardon me, Lily, dear." _

_Mrs. O'Brian had stumbled in to her, looking decomposed. _

"_It's fine, Mrs. O'Brian. Is something the matter?"_

_She hesitated, and then the words came out in a rush. "It's just… I know we are supposed to be tolerant, but that doesn't mean they should go about like that in public!" _

_Lily blinked. "I'm sorry?"_

"_Them!" The plump, older lady pointed to the corner, where James was sitting, his arm slung around Sirius, the two of them taking turns to pop food into each other's mouth. _

"_It's just not…" Mrs. O'Brian was wringing her hands desperately, "the Bible explicitly forbids it—"_

_Realization dawned upon the redhead, and she hastily cut in, "Oh, no!" She had a sudden urge to giggle. "The one in the glasses—James—is my fiancé. Sirius is going to be the best man." _

_Mrs. O'Brian looked understandably suspicious. Lily could not blame her. The affection between them was impossible not to notice. _

"_You're sure they're not… you know, they're not lovers?" The last word was whispered. _

"_Oh, I mean, they most definitely are," Lily responded gravely, "Soulmates, really." _

_She had mostly said it to see Mrs. O'Brian's aghast expression. _

_That did not make it false._

* * *

It was something in the way they looked at each other, Lily decided. Something about the unhidden affection in their eyes and the soft fondness in their smiles that had several people secretly calling Sirius the other Mrs. Potter when they thought she couldn't hear. And she could understand their suspicion, because there _was_ something powerful and poignant when James looked at Sirius that she knew would never be there when he looked at her. _That_ expression belonged to Sirius. Which wasn't to say that she was jealous. Because when James smiled at her, the expression of love was so empowering, so visibly stunning, that Lily knew that, for that brief instant, she wasJames' _entire _world. And that look was completely and totally hers. But when she married James, she married all of James, and that included the parts that he saved for Sirius, too.

* * *

They were in the Prewitt's flat, drawing up operation plans for the order. Sirius was not there. He was not answering his mirror. He had not told anyone where he was going. _And_ no one had heard from him since the beginning of his auror assignment the night before.

And James was worried.

Oh, his mask of indifference and nonchalance was extremely well crafted, but Lily knew her husband well enough to recognize that there was tension and a small bit of fear underneath his apparent unconcern. That, in itself, was enough for her to finally suggest that Sirius might be in trouble. That maybe the death eaters being mad and Sirius' were not a coincidence. After all, it was no secret that Sirius was personally responsible for foiling the plans of many a death eater.

James just looked at her as if that was the most absurd thing he had ever heard. "He's not missing. He's just not here."

"Then where is he?" Fabian demanded

James' response was flippant. Blasé. "Maybe he's getting some ice cream." But she caught the slight hesitation, the tiny falter, and she knew that James was bothered. "Trust me, there's no way a bunch of idiot death eaters caught Sirius. Can we please get back to the Malfoy Project?"

"We're not calling it the Malfoy Project, Potter!" Gideon protested immediately. They had had this argument before.

"I think it's a catchy name."

"It's an _irrelevant_ name. The Malfoys aren't even involved."

"That we know of. Anyway, misdirection is sometimes a valuable tool," James stated seriously, and Gideon threw his hands in the air in exasperation.

His confidence had comforted the others, though, and they returned to the planning without complaint. But James was off. Not enough that any one else would notice. But Lily had learned early on that the key to reading James was not seeing the emotions he displayed, but noticing the ones that were missing. Right now, even though he was smiling and laughing, the sparkle was absent. That twinkle of amusement and love that was a constant on his face when Sirius was around was gone, and Lily couldn't help but feel that James was incomplete without it.

So when Sirius' coded knock finally sounded on the door, Lily felt her heart return to its normal pace. James was the one to answer, and Lily was extremely glad to be sitting so close to the entrance.

Sirius took one look at James' expression of relief. "You didn't think I was going to miss—"

"—please, I know better." The Sirius smile was displayed prominently on the messy haired pureblood's face.

Lily smiled in spite of herself. Because as much as she sometimes disliked not being able to understand James' and Sirius' half verbalized conversations, they were integral to her feeling of normalcy.

There was a moment of silence, but Lily could read James' impatience. Finally, "What, so you're not going to tell me?"

"You're going to be angry."

James raised an eyebrow. "I'll be angrier if you don't."

"You know what I was assigned to yesterday?"

James nodded, "Surveillance on—"

"—the vampire, yeah."

A pause. Then, "Tell me you didn't—"

"—he was threatening a family of—"

"—which _obviously_ meant you should—"

"—what else was I supposed—"

"—how about _not_ following him—"

"—they had _kids_, James—"

James shook his head. He still looked more entertained than irritated, though. "Of course they did. So what did you do?"

Sirius shifted his weight to the other foot. "Remember when we had drinks last week?"

There was incredulity on James' face, now. "You didn't! How much?"

Sirius didn't answer, but comprehension dawned on James' face, accompanied by a smile of delight and surprise.

"The entire thing. You got all of it, didn't you?" James whistled softly. "Sirius, that's—"

"He deserved it," Sirius' whine was petulant.

James just watched him expectantly.

Sirius sighed, and added, "And I _really_ didn't like him."

"Apparently. How do you think he'll react?"

Sirius shrugged, and James' stared at his partner in disbelief.

"Oh, right, _of course_ he's not going to discover that everything he owns is—"

"—he _is_ a bit of an idiot, Prongs," Sirius offered hopefully.

"Not _that_ much of one."

"So I might have been a bit hasty," Sirius grumbled.

"You have an amazing talent for the understatement," James said wryly, but his expression had drifted into one of tolerance and forbearance, and they both knew that James was not going to berate his friend for his actions any time soon. "I assume you have a plan?"

"Don't I always? I'm heading back now, should only take me a couple hours."

"So I should start pulling together backup."

"Oh, ye of little faith." The warm regard in both their faces was stunning. "I'll stop by when I'm done."

"Do that." Sirius turned to leave, but James called after him mischievously, "Might want to stock up on some wooden stakes. Just in case."

There was a rude hand gesture from Sirius, and then the door was shut.

"What happened?" Gideon asked immediately.

James just waved it off, "He was being Sirius."

But the Sirius look was glowing on his face, and Lily knew everything was going to be all right.

* * *

Except they weren't intimate. Not in the way people normally used the word. There was nothing carnal or base to their relationship; it completely transcended the physical. Which made it easy for Lily to find it absurd when people suggested that their touches lingered a few seconds too long or were a little too often, that the number of times she had walked into their apartment and found Sirius sprawled across James' bed or James snuggled into Sirius' was perhaps not natural for even best friends, that normal _couples_ let alone normal friends did not share the same level of heightened awareness or familiarity. Because James' and Sirius' relationship was based on the meetings of their minds, the intellectual melding of their thoughts, Lily knew that any gratification they might find in something physical would be so insignificant in comparison that it was not worth even thinking about.

* * *

She could hear Sirius before she saw him.

"Merlin, but I am ready for that pub—" he stopped the moment he saw Lily sitting at the kitchen table. But instead of any anger, any rightful resentment that his plans were canceled, there was only warmth in his greeting.

"Padfoot!" James had entered, and there was apology written over his face as he went over to clap Sirius on the shoulder.

Sirius shrugged it off, a wicked grin crossing his face, "Here I thought you had promised yourself to me: mind, body, and soul."

The amusement was evident on James' face. "Oh, Sirius, you know I would never put anyone before you." They were facing each other, bodies close and noses almost touching. Had it been anyone else, the look of fond familiarity would have had Lily blushing to her roots.

As it was, Lily had her own surprise for them. "I was thinking we could still go out to the pub."

"Really?" It was blurted out before James could hide the surprise.

"Why not?" Then Lily added impulsively, "I'll call Remus, so someone can keep me company, while you two go flirting."

James was at her side with not a small look of concern. "You're sure? We're perfectly happy staying in."

She did not have to look Sirius to know he would be nodding, as if those two could ever disagree on anything. But she reaffirmed her choice, anyway.

Which is how she found herself sitting in a booth in a London pub with a weary but bemused Remus Lupin watching her fiancé and his best mate chatting with a lovely pair of brunettes at the bar.

"He'll stop anytime you want him to, you know." It was not the first time Remus said something to that effect. The young werewolf was watching her anxiously, looking for that first sign of discomfort. But she was honestly and completely fine. James loved her. He _loved _her, and she was so confident in that fact, so safe in the knowledge that whichever brunette he was dazzling meant nothing to him, that she was unaffected.

"Did James put you up to this?"

Remus' reluctant grin was answer enough.

"I'm _fine_. It's entertaining."

"It always is when they come across those types."

At Lily's questioning look, Remus explains with a sigh, "You know. Those girls who are weirdly into brothers."

Lily laughed at his disgruntled look.

"You can find it amusing, now, but one time, these two girls told James and Sirius that they could watch the girls snog if James and Sirius did it first."

Lily choked on her drink, turning to him with wide eyes.

"You're lying."

"I'm not," Remus insisted. "And it happens more often than you would think."

"What did they do?" Lily asked, and she has to admit that there's a little bit of a morbid curiosity.

There was a twinkle in Remus' eyes when he answered, "Something like that." His finger is pointing to the bar, and Lily is following it, and…

Oh. _Oh_.

James and Sirius were inches apart, foreheads and noses touching, gazing at each other with this smoldering look of passion and love and desire that Lily almost wished they _were_ kissing. It would have been less indecent than the shared affection in that look, because, at that moment, it was as if they were the only two people in the room, the only people in the _world_. And the tenderness and care with which James hand reached to stroke Sirius' cheek was so demonstrative that Lily's breathing stopped.

Just as suddenly, it was over. Without a glance, the two black haired boys were headed back to the booth as if the past few seconds had never happened, proudly wearing self-satisfied grins, and before she has the chance to say anything, James mouth was claiming hers, his arms pressing her to him, his lips so soft and loving against hers that she couldn't breath for a completely different reason.

"So much better," he murmured against her mouth.

"I think they got the point, mate," Sirius had taken up her seat in the booth, lounging in a position of casual elegance.

Lily looked to see the two brunettes watching James, their faces flushed. They sniffed and marched out of the pub, noses in the air.

James pulled Lily into the booth, his grip on her still tight so that she was almost sitting on his lap, the air of an incredible delight about him. "Don't think they'll try that one again."

"Oh, no," Sirius' eyes were shining, "No, I can't imagine they would."

"What _happened_?" Remus was asking, just as Lily demanded, "What the _hell_ was that?!"

"That was a kiss," James said slowly.

"Looked like a rather nice one," Sirius added.

"We've done better," James eyes strayed to Lily's lips, and his offer was hopeful, "Maybe we should try again?"

"I don't suppose," There was sarcasm dripping from her voice even as she fought the smile, "that those two girls told you that they would kiss if you did it first."

"How'd you know?" Sirius asked, startled at the guess.

"And, I also don't suppose," and she can feel James wincing from the derision in her voice, "that it didn't occur to you two idiots that you could just say no."

"But we did say no," James protested hastily.

"Sort of," Sirius amended.

"Sort of."

"Maybe not quite so concisely."

"The wording may have been a bit different."

Lily was amused in spite of herself, but she kept up her pretense. "_How_ different, exactly?"

"We might have said something along the lines that if _we_ wanted to kiss, we wouldn't need them there in the first place," James' words came out in one breath, and Lily could tell that he was realizing that he probably should have considered his actions more thoroughly.

"And you two decided to prove your point," Remus finished, and the two black haired purebloods were grinning abashedly.

"We didn't _actually_—" Lily's sharp glare silenced Sirius' argument.

"I _am _sorry." James finally looked repentant, his eyes imploring, but he couldn't hide the hint of incredulity from his voice. "I didn't think you would—I mean, it's _Sirius_."

As if the very thought was absurd.

It was.

* * *

So you could call them friends. Partners. Brothers. Maybe even soulmates. And you could defend each label with lie after lie after lie without actually saying anything false. Because they were more than words. More than names. More than concepts.

They were SiriusandJames, or perhaps it was JamesandSirius, and that, more than anything else, was their truth.

_~Fin~_

* * *

_Eros_: _While generally considered as a passionate, sensual, intimate love, in its purest form, Plato removes physical attraction from the concept (platonic) and describes it as the appreciation of beauty _within_ the person_.

* * *

**A/N: And it's done. So which "love" fit best for you?**

**This story has been a long time in the making. It's also different from anything else I have ever written and anything else I will probably ever write. But I hope it was enjoyable. **

**Please let me know what you think. All comments and criticisms are welcomed and appreciated. **

**The Third Marauder**


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